


DanganRonpa:  The Super High School Level (Alternate) Universe!

by le_criminel_consultation



Series: DanganRonpa:  The Super High School Level (Alternate) Universe! [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-13 23:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_criminel_consultation/pseuds/le_criminel_consultation
Summary: Hope's Peak Academy is the finest institution for gifted students in Japan, but not all is as it seems behind those solid oak doors...A Danganronpa AU where different people die and Monokuma's still a fourth-wall breaking little shit.





	1. Chapter 1

_Darkness swirls around him like the heart of a black hole. There are no swirling stars to glow in their simple beauty; there is only the abyss of the hole itself, suffocating him, crushing him. He cannot feel the sweet cool air slipping into his suffering lungs, though he is gasping with every breath. Voices murmur and whisper in the distance, taunting him, but nothing is louder than the echoing tick-tick-tick of a clock somewhere. It is counting down to something, but what? He screams and screams and_  
  
He bolts upright with a gasp, cold sweat dripping down his forehead and soaking his uniform collar. It was a dream, it was only a dream.  But…what was a dream?  He can’t even remember what happened.  Does it even matter?  His last memory is crossing the threshold of Hope’s Peak Academy, the school of every student’s dreams.  What happened?  Was he attacked or drugged?  Did he faint from excitement and conk his head on the concrete entryway?  Yes.  Yes, it has to be that.  Nobody would be so foolish as to attack a prospective student in front of their school, especially a school as affluent as this. He’s certain there are security cameras - a theory that is proven almost immediately by a simple glance up to the top of the exit door - and guards everywhere, so who would be foolish enough to physically attack anyone ever?  Stupid.

 

A brief scan of the room reveals to him that this is a classroom.  Desks and chairs surrounded him; a blackboard with a Super High School Level Maths Question hung neatly behind the teacher’s desk.  The room was dark, illuminated with a strange orange glow, but it was not dark enough to hide the steel plates covering every single window.  He slides out of the desk and investigates the closest one.  It can’t be an actual steel plate; that would be ridiculous.  It’s a gray window blind with textures that make it _look_ like a steel plate.  He reaches out for it but instead whips around as something akin to paper rustles behind him.  A note is resting on the desk he awoke in, but there is no sign that anyone is ever here - although the security camera is squarely aiming its black eye at him.  Trying to ignore the skin-crawling feeling that he was being watched, he snatches it off the table and skims it.  A rather childish picture of Hope’s Peak portrayed in crayon and a message chicken scratched across it?  How odd. Rather…inappropriate for such a prestige academy.  Still, he reads the message, in case it contains valuable information pertaining to the school.

 

_Welcome to school.  A new semester has just begun._

Okay…very simple and straightforward.  Directly to business.  He can appreciate that.

 

_Since yer starting new lives, this school will be yer new world._

‘Yer’?  What kind of school not only doesn’t know the difference between “you’re” and “your” but also can’t spell either one?  His expectations of Hope’s Peak are beginning to slowly waver.  

 

_Gather in the gym at 8 for the welcoming ceremony._

8 AM?  His eyes flick up to the clock beside the door; its hands are neatly pointed to 7:35.  “I’m going to be late!”  With a gasp, he shoves the note into his pocket and barrels out the door, the steel plates on the windows already forgotten.  The hallway is glowing an odd shade of purple which sends a chill down his spine, but he swallows the discomfort down and surges forward.  He passes room without a second glance; if it’s not the gym, he doesn’t care.  Finally, the large double doors loom before him, and he pushes through with a burst of pride.  It is exactly 7:45 according to his trusty watch, and he is about to become an official student at Japan’s most prestigious high school.

 

“Welcome to Hope’s Peak Academy, Kiyotaka Ishimaru.”


	2. Chapter 2

As people trickle through the door, he begins to get an idea of what his class, the 78th class of Hope’s Peak Academy, consists of.  The first three - all girls, of course (though he's not entirely sure what Ohgami is) - arrive mere minutes after he does.  A few minutes later, a few more, then a few more.  For nearly fifteen minutes, students wander in as if dazed and confused, but whenever he talks to them, they seem completely with it.    
  
Just before the stroke of 8, two more students arrive.  World-famous pop star Maizono and wealthy indifferent Togami barely make it in time.  Ishimaru is quick to admonish them; Maizono is appropriately apologetic and promptly forgiven (it is quite easy to get lost in a new school without a guide, after all), but Togami simply says “I am not late.  It is 7:58, hall monitor. Besides, if I am late, rest assured that it is not without an excellent reason.”    
  
He doesn’t like Togami.  
  
By the time 8:13 rolls around, he’s getting restless.  There are fourteen students total now; are there supposed to be more?  Fourteen, while not a lucky odd, is still a nice, neat number.  You can divide an even number of students into even teams and groups.  The rows of desks in classrooms are neatly arranged for easy evacuation in case of a fire.  Still, Ogami and Hagakure insist that there is another student coming, and Ishimaru is forced to continue wandering around making small talk with people.  He prefers to keep his conversations far away from dull small talk and the likes, but when he barely knows his fellow students, he doesn’t really have a choice, does he?    
  
He stops by Kirigiri, who stands off to the side and seems rather lost in thought.  “You seem like a very organized person, Kirigiri.”  
  
It takes a moment for her to react.  Her purple eyes seem to pierce his, searching his brain for any secrets he may have hidden away in the dark crevices.  “I like to keep my life and possessions well-structured, yes.”  
  
“Would you be interested in joining me in the Morals Committee?”  He sticks his hand out for a confirming handshake.  “We would be quite delighted to have someone like you.”  
  
She glances down at his hand, then back up at him.  “I assume you have been here for a while, then?”  
  
He slowly pulls his hand back and neatly slides it into his front pants pocket.  “I have not.  Today is my first day - the same as you, I’d assume.”  
  
Kirigiri shakes her head.  “You were the first person in the gym, at fifteen minutes early.  You clearly know your way around this school.  You are also a member of the Public Morals Committee, which tells me that you’ve been here for a while now.  Tell me, when did you first arrive at this school?”  
  
He shakes his head in an unintentionally perfect mimicry of hers.  “Like I said, I arrived this morning, same as you.  I’m…not actually a member of the Morals Committee yet, but I’m going to be.  I’m self-appointed right now, but I will be an official member either tomorrow or as early as this afternoon.”  
  
Kirigiri nods and turns away dismissively.  “Then perhaps you should seek pleasantries elsewhere, Mr. Ishimaru.”  
  
He’s certainly not complaining.  He turns to leave, but the gym doors reopen at that moment.  The horde of students turn as one to gasp and murmur to themselves as another smaller student quietly slips in, clearly trying not to get caught.  Well, he has miserably failing.  He struts forward, pushing his way past the others to confront the stunned new student.  He is, however, just a moment too late.  
  
"Ah, cool.  This'll make fifteen of us."  Hagakure steps forward and grins at the new arrival.  He suddenly grimaces and grabs at his enormous hair.  "For - whaa?  I cannot predict now..."  
  
"So!  Is this everyone?"  Another student pushes past; this time, it's Yamada.  "Maybe now we'll get some answers.  Might I ask who you are, oh entrepid young entrepenour of learning?"  
  
"Um - Naegi.  Makotot Naegi."  Naegi smiles forcefully, clearly trying to be polite while trembling in his sneakers.  
  
Ishimaru's had enough.  "Ah-ha!"  With a shove, he manages to finally push his way forward and jab an accusing finger into the boy's face.  The boy gasps and steps back, arms shooting up to defend his chest from Ishimaru's jabs.  "Truant!  The instructions said eight o'clock sharp!  You have no excuse for your tardiness - "  
  
"Yeahhhhh, could you just not?"  He whirls around to see Junko Enoshima glaring at him with her arms folded over her chest, Maizono huddled in her wake.  "I mean, who gives a flying flip about being on time?  None of us even know why we're here."  
  
"Um, excuse me - "  A few students glance around, then step aside to reveal the tiny Fugisaki, who is raising a small, trembling hand.  "I have a question.  Did you happen to wake up in a classroom by yourself?"  The new student nods.  "That's what I thought.   That's exactly what happened to us."  She gestures around at the rest of the class, then folds her hands neatly over her chest.  
  
Celestia Ludenberch taps her fingers against her hip.   "Sudden unconsciousness - only to converge in the gym upon awakening?"  Her soft, smooth voice somehow quiets the restless students and echoes around the gym walls.  She rather looks like she's enjoying this... mystery, or whatever it is."Fabulously peculiar."    
  
The biker Owada stretches his neck from side to side, cracking the joints in a rather disgusting manner.  "Yeah, that's the word for it." He points at the steel gates barring the large windows from their sight.  "Reminds me the digs we had in juvie."  He scowls at the steel, then scoffs and glances back at Ishimaru, who chooses not to respond.  Honestly, juvie?  What kind of entrance requirements does this school even have, that they would accept delinquents who have attended juvenile detention?  The realities of this strange place just keep sliding further and further away from his previous expectations - and he is not happy about it.  
  
"Sounds about right," Kuwata agrees, shrugging to hide his frustration.  He still doesn't look thrilled though.  "Except this time, we've been kidnapped."  He lets out a sharp sarcastic bark of laughter.  "Hey, maybe they'll auction off our organs on the black market!"    
  
Fugisaki lets out a shrill whimper at this bold and highly inappropriate suggestion, and Asahina pulls her into a tight hug.  "Think positive - it's a motivational program!  This is supposed to be a special school, right?"  She glances at Ohgami for support; the muscle-bound student shrugs.  "It's difficult to say.  I suggest that first, we assess our situation."    
  
They look like they want to continue, but a sudden explosive feedback loop from the speakers above them has everyone cringing.  "Mic - test!  Mic - test!  Testing, testing, one-two!  Can everyone hear me?  Grrrrreat!  Everyone, please turn your attention to the podium on the platform so that we can begin!"  As one, the entire crowd of students turns toward the podium, Ishimaru seizing his chance to push his way to the front.  As the principal arrived, their mouths dropped open in shock and almost horror.  
  
"Welcome to Hope's Peak!"


	3. Chapter 3

Ishimaru is frozen among the crowd of gasping and murmuring students.  The principal - or what he assumes is the principal - is standing on the podium before them, waving cheerfully.  He isn’t speaking anymore, but his squeaky words were nothing but friendly and practically delightful.  So far he’s been nothing but warm and welcoming, as a principal should be.  There’s just one problem.  
  
  
This principal seems to be a round animatronic bear.  
  
  
“I had a nightmare exactly like this once!”  Yamada shrieks and falls back to hide behind Ogami.  Ishimaru can’t help but wonder if that makes him the Super High School Level Psychic instead of Hagakure.  
  
  
He stands about three feet tall and seems to be split in two.  His right half is white and pure, like a rather innocent plush bear that any child would snuggle, but his left is…it’s not scary, that’s not the right word, but he will call it ‘menacing’.  His eye is a lightning bolt-like screen that glows red from the camera light inside.  The right side of his mouth curls upwards in a terrifying grin, the kind you would see on a serial killer’s face right before he disembowels you.  This…this thing can’t be the principal.  
  
  
“I am your principal!  Yeah, yeah, I know - I look like a Build-a-Bear reject (which I am not).  But it’s true!  I, Monokuma, am the principal of Hope’s Peak Academy!”  He sweeps into a dramatic bow.  “Now, how about you bright young whipper-snappers give me a Super High School Level ‘good morning’?”  
  
  
Ishimaru knows his place.  He shoves past the other students and snaps into a bow, expecting the others to follow suit.  “Good morning, principal-sir!” He doesn’t get up right away; he can see in his peripheral vision that he is the only one showing proper respect to this …bear.  How ridiculous.  Yes, it’s absurd that their principal is whatever this thing is, but he is still the principal and deserves to be shown respect.  He can hear Fukawa shriek “Don’t encourage it!” behind him, but he ignores her.  She does not understand how respect works.  
  
  
“Stand back up, young Ishimaru!  While I appreciate your eagerness, I’m not that important to get a ten-year bow.”  He laughed suddenly, a strange whining pu-pu-pu that sent shivers down Ishimaru’s spine.  “I mean, I am that important, but right now, your eagerness is holding off the main event!”    
  
  
Ishimaru’s face flushes hotly, but he quickly stands up and crosses his arms over his chest.  Behind him, he can hear Junko muttering, “Wow, you are such a mama’s boy, aren’t you?” and his face gets even hotter.  He keeps his head up, but deep inside, he wants to hide within the group, hide from the big-haired model and her sharp tongue, and pretend he’s just another face in the crowd.  He can’t do that, though.  He is the Super High School Level Moral Compass.  He has to show an example, even if everyone else mocks and ignores him.  
  
  
“Now then.  Welcome, welcome, welcome, to Hope’s Peak Academy!  Fifteen of the most special kids in the world have received invitations to this school, and here you all are!  The Super High School Level students of the 78th class.  I think I feel a song coming on!”  He strikes a dramatic pose as a piano tinkles up to an opening note.  “Aaaaaaaah,” he vocalizes before the piano cuts out with a record scratch that has all the students cringing yet again.  “ - aaaand we’re not doing that, because that’s super lame-o!  You didn’t seriously think I was gonna sing at you, do you?  What kind of principal does that?  Super weird!”    
  
  
He laughs again.  “So, as I said earlier - welcome, bright young things, to your new living quarters!  Now, before you get all uppity, rest assured it’s for your own good!  We mustn’t let the outside world dull that glistening inner spark; we gotta keep that freshness sealed in.”  
  
  
Naegi starts to say something, but Junko pushes past Ishimaru to snap, “Oh, I don’t think so -”  
  
  
Monokuma ignores them both.  “So now you’re wondering how long you’ll be guests of our program.  Well, approximately the rest of your lives.”  The entire student body gasps.  The bear bounces in excitement.  “Oh, yeah!  By new living quarters, I mean permanent living quarters.” Ishimaru takes a step back, his hand out defensively.  The rest of their lives?  There’s no way - this can’t be real.  It has to be a joke.  He’s already made several jokes.  They just have to wait for the inevitable ‘badum-tsh’ that always follows classic jokes.  
  
  
But it doesn’t come.  
  
  
“You - you can’t be serious,” stammers Kuwata.  
  
  
Fugisaki whispers, “We’ll be here - forever?  No…”  
  
  
Monokuma grins his classic grin (can he even stop grinning?  Ishimaru isn’t sure).  “What?  Don’t fret.  We have an astronomical budget!  Your needs will be satisfied in perpetuity!”  
  
  
“That’s not the issue!” Maizono cries out, her voice cracking slightly.  “We have families!”  
  
  
Junko shakes her head and scowls.  “No.  Just no.”  
  
  
Naegi peers around her. “Excuse me.  So, the iron plates in our rooms - those are to shut us in?”  
  
  
“Bing-go!” sings Monokuma with what appears to be a leer.  “You’re here for keepsies!  Keep and scream all you want.”  His voice lowers to a bear-like growl.  “No-one outside can hear you.”  
  
  
Celesita raises a dainty hand.  “Forgive me if I suggest this to be less than ideal,” she purrs in what seems to be her normal manner of speech, “but to spend the rest of our natural lives, confined in a place like this?”  
  
  
Monokuma clears his throat.  “Natural lives?  Oh, that’s rich.  Actually, for those who wish to leave, there is a loophole - ”  
  
  
“Enlighten us, then,” snaps Togami, his eyes hard as steel.   
  
  
“Please don’t interrupt the principal!”  Monokuma shakes a paw at him.  “Take a lesson from Ishimaru here, and learn to keep your trap shut!  Anyway, the way out of here iiiiiiis - ”  A drumroll rings through the gym for far too long before the bear crows, “Good old-fashioned murder!”  He flips off the podium and lands in the heart of the group, strutting among them as if he owns the place (which he seems to).  “Yes!  The student who kills a classmate (and gets away with it) will be permitted to walk out of here scot-free!  Pummel - shiv - bludgeon - slice- mutilate - immolate - asphyxiate!  Know magic?  Conjurate!”    
  
  
He strikes another pose as the students stare at him, awestruck at his boldness.  Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a thrashing salmon appears in his arms.  “Know what you and this salmon have in common?” he asks as he struggles to keep it in his grasp.  “Neither of you have the faintest notion how tingly the idea of watching you all slaughter each other makes me!  The best of the best, the creme de la creme, forced into a gore soaked free-for-all!”  His white have turns bright pink and begins to drip with sweat; this is clearly an aphrodisiac for him.  “Can there be anything hotter?”  
  
  
The room erupts with furious shouts.  “But why?” Maizono shrieks.  “What could possibly be the point in making us kill?”  
  
  
Yamada interjects, “Yeah, what they said!  If you think we’re on board with this bull crap, you’re out of your mind!”  
  
  
“Bull crap?”  The room seems to shrink and the bear seems to grow as his glowing red eye fixes itself on the terrified Yamada.  “Where do you get off, talking like that to your principal?”  The salmon, now forgotten, flops on the ground some more; even its eyes are locked on Monokuma.  “Love it or hate it, sweetie pies, but from this day forward, this school is your entire world!  Them’s the breaks!”  He starts to march forward, and the students break apart like the Red Sea.  “Look on the bright side!  I’m letting you get away with murder - for realsies!  So stop whining, and start plotting - ”  
  
  
“You want murder, teddy two-tone?”  Mondo Owada, the High School Level Biker who constantly looks like he’s ready to kill whoever dares to share the same oxygen as he, steps forward to block the bear’s path.  He drops to one knee to stare the bear right in the face, his enormous pompadour nearly poking Monokuma in the nose.  “Take this shit any further, and you’ll be victim number one!”  
  
  
“Is that a threat?” Monokuma takes a step back (possibly to avoid losing an eye).  He jabs at the pompadour with his white paw.  “You gonna impale me on that pompadour?”  
  
  
Owada sputters for a second, then grabs Monokuma by the throat and lifts up high off the ground.  “Bitch!  No!  What I’m gonna do is tear you apart until there’s nothing left but whatever’s making you jabber!”  
  
  
Visibly panicking, Monokuma begins to flap his arms frantically.  “Wait!  School rules expressly state ‘no harm must come to the principal under any circumstances’!”  He freezes then, and his red eye begins to flash in time to a strange buzzing that slowly picks up the pace every few seconds.    
  
  
“Uh, guys?”  Owada glares up at the vibrating bear.  “What’s that noise?”  
  
  
Kirigiri suddenly gasps.  “Oh no!  Toss him!”  Owada glances at her in confusion, and she yells, “Trust me, just do it!”  He flings the bear as far as he can, but before it can get more than twenty feet, it explodes into a ball of flame and ash.  Everyone screams in fear, and several students are stepped on as they try to scramble backward.  
  
  
Owada is stunned. “It - it could’ve blown my face off!”  
  
  
“I think that was the point,” Fugisaki whispers quietly, so only Ishimaru can hear her.  He awkwardly pats her on the shoulder, but she shrinks away with an apologetic glance.  Okay, she doesn’t like to be touched. No big deal.  He can remember that easily.  Louder, she adds, “So the teddy bear’s…kaput?”  
  
  
“Not a teddy bear - Monokuma!” shrieks an all-too-familiar voice over the loudspeaker.  Lo and behold, Monokuma himself leaps back onto the podium and strikes a typical dramatic pose.  “Tadaaaah!  Consider that a verbal warning, young man.  Get smart with me again, any of you, and - let’s just say that around here, we forgo written warnings in favor of instant corporal punishment.  
  
  
“This now concludes the introductory portion of your orientation, boys and girls.  Here’s to you all enjoying a fun and fulfilling, if not exactly long, life of scholastic enrichment here at Hope’s Peak Academy!”  
  
  
With that, he vanishes into the podium, leaving a stunned and terrified Class 78.  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

The moment the bear vanishes, the room explodes into panic and anger.  “Clearly this is some kind of perverse joke,” Togami declares, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose.  “There is absolutely no way the principal himself would be behind this kind of disgustingly immature behavior.”  
  
  
“Sounds more like a hazing to me,” Owada returns, folding his arms over his chest.  
  
  
“A hazing?”  Togami’s disdainful tone clearly has a hint of disgust in it too.  Ishimaru almost laughs at his reaction.  Does he think himself too important to be part of a hazing?  Good god, even he has been part of a hazing - though his was the mild task of giving out five detentions in a week to prove his worthiness of joining the Morale Committee.  “Surely you jest.  Would it be as simple as that?”  
  
  
“Why not?  We did it all the time back in the gang and in juvie.  This is nothing compared to that.”   Owada kicks his boot against the floor, leaving a black scuff on the linoleum.  Ishimaru has to clench his fists to keep himself from scolding the taller, more muscular teenager.  He doesn’t want to piss off Owada just yet.  His fists are the size of the Moral Compass’s head.    
  
  
“Odd, then, that you seemed as horrified as the rest of us when the bear announced it.”  Togami turns away dismissively and stalks off to consult with Kirigiri, his (seeming) intellectual equal.  
  
  
Owada scoffs and turns to Ishimaru, his eyes narrowing.  “What’re you lookin’ at, teacher’s pet?  Lookin’ for a stronger, older guy to latch onto for protection?”  
  
  
“W-What?” Ishimaru stammers, taken aback by the sudden hostility.  He clears his throat and stands up strong.  He’s not going to be bullied by a mere delinquent.  “I’ll have you know that I was merely listening to your conversation.  If you didn’t want people overhearing, you and Togami shouldn’t have talked so loud.  Kindly refrain from being so defensive at things that are not meant to offend!”  
  
  
“I ought’a…”  Owada’s fists are clenched at his sides, his face flushing redder than Kuwata’s hair.  He takes a deep breath and slowly releases it.  His hands relax slowly.   “No.  I promised my brother I’d keep my temper here.  You keep your pointy little nose out of my business, and I won’t break it off.  You got that, bitch rat?”  With that final jab, he storms back into the crowd, ignoring that it parts almost as quickly as it had for Monokuma.    
  
  
Ishimaru follows at a distance, this time to find Naegi, the tardy student.  He’s standing in the corner, flirting with superstar Maizono.  They’re laughing and having a good time; thankfully, this isn’t a problem for him.  “Naegi!”  The boy turns around, eyebrows raised in surprise.  “You and I need to have a discussion about - ”  
  
  
“Everyone!”  Ishimaru groans softly and turns to face Togami, who is standing behind the podium as if he owns the place.  “Kirigiri and I have discussed the situation and have made a decision as to what we should do.”  
  
  
“That was fast,” mutters Kuwata as he pushes his way past Ishimaru.  “Looks like we’re gonna be following the lead of a couple of robots until we can get out of here.”  Ishimaru follows him silently, a mixture of curiosity as to what’s going on and mild fear that Kuwata will think him a robot too. He falls into place beside Naegi and Maizono, not thrilled that he’s about to take orders from a pompous asshole but rather curious as to what he’s about to be ordered to do.  Isn’t it a little early to assume to know everything about the situation?  
  
  
Not for Togami, apparently.  
  
  
“We need to search this school for a means to escape - ”  
  
  
“Ya think?”  
  
  
Togami completely ignores the smart remark.  “Therefore, Kirigiri and I have decided that we should all split up into pairs and search the school for any information we can.  We cannot be the only people in this entire school.”  
  
  
Fugisaki timidly raises her hand, but Fukawa shuts down any chance the small girl had of speaking.  “Splitting into pairs?  You want to split up the group?  That’s just begging for people to die!  You can’t send us off alone with possible murderers; we might not come back alive!  I am not going anywhere with anyone - except for maybe you, Togami.”  Her face flushes crimson, and she quickly falls back, mumbling quietly about how Togami would never stoop so low as to commit murder and she meant nothing by her words.  Everyone ignores her, while Hagakure mutters something about her getting punched by the crazy fairie as a child.    
  
  
Already the group is splitting into pairs around him.  Asahina and Ogami have claimed each other.  Fugisaki edges toward Kuwata, who is already reaching out to her; Ishimaru can’t tell if they’re flirting or if he’s adopted her as a younger sister, but either way, he has to admit that it’s kind of cute.  Maizono and Naegi are, of course, already together.  Who will he pair with?  He doesn’t want to be the lone man out, but his options are quickly running out.  So far it looks like he’ll be paired with Fukawa - and he absolutely does not want to be paired with Fukawa.  She keeps staring at him, the expression of disguist and despair on her face mirroring his true feelings on the matter, but she keeps edging closer…  
  
  
“All right, love birds, break it up.”  Togami just sounds exhausted at this point.  “We’ve already decided the pairs so when we call out your partner, just gather up and leave.  I’m sure none of us would like to be roaming this hellish landscape of a school during the midnight hours, so let’s try to keep it quick, shall we?  Now then.  The first pair is Celestia and Owada.”  Owada protests something about not wanting to get paired with the goth queen, but at a simple glance from said queen, he shuts up and meekly follows her out the door.  Ishimaru can’t help but wonder if it’s the last time one of them will be seen alive.  
  
  
No.  You can’t think like that.  Stay positive.  We’re all people here, not animals.  
  
  
As the list goes on, and more people vanish from the room, Ishimaru can’t help but feel a little worried that he seems to be the odd one out.  Even Fukawa is paired up with Yamada and scurries after him, issuing a wide variety of chattering threats that Ishimaru himself finds quite easy to ignore. He shrugs and glances around to see that he’s the only one left, other than Naegi, Maizono, Kirigiri, and Togami.  Maizono and Kirigiri are shipped off together next, leaving only the three boys.  Finally, Togami says those final words that Ishimaru is so afraid of:  “Naegi, you’re with Ishimaru.  Meet up in the cafeteria after two hours.  I want to minimize the risk of losing people on the first day.”  
  
  
Ishimaru sighs heavily and turns to - Naegi?  Wait.  He glances back up at Togami, who is hopping off the stage and dusting off the legs of his suit.  “You’re going by yourself?  I do not find that a wise course of action!”  
  
  
“But of course.”  He lets out a derisive snort that seems to be meant to be a chuckle of sorts.  “You don’t really think I trust any of you?  The fact that you all quietly paired up and wandered off like I ordered you to is rather amusing to me.  You trust not only me, but also each other, almost unquestioningly.  Hopefully this misplaced trust will keep you alive, but I highly doubt it.”  He smiles in a way that makes him look like some sort of creepy mannequin, then stalks off.  
  
  
Naegi smiles almost shyly, his face a mask of unease.  “You ready?  We can head up to the second floor, if you like.”  
  
  
Ishimaru smiles back, trying to hide the fact that it is incredibly forced.  He punches the air to motivate himself and his new partner.  “I am indeed ready, Naegi!  Let us begin our investigation!”  
  
  


 

\-------------

  
  
  
“I hereby call this meeting of the students of the 78th class of Hope’s Peak Academy to order!”  Lacking a gavel, Ishimaru slaps his palm on the wooden table in the cafeteria.  He feels invigorated; even though he and Naegi didn’t find a single thing to help them escape, he feels more in his element now than he has since awakening in that classroom.  “I hereby propose that any student who has new information regarding our situation step forward now and inform us of what they have learned.”  
  
  
Owada, of course, is the first to speak.  “I kicked at the front door for an hour.  Didn’t make a single dent.  It’s as hard as iron!”  
  
  
“That would be because it is iron, my dear.”  Celestia’s purr doesn’t have any kind of inflection in it, but everyone can hear the amusement behind her words.  
  
  
Yamada raises his hand.  “The living accomodations are quite nice.  Beds are firm, yet soft and bouncy.  Stylish, really.  If not for the iron plates on the windows and the security cameras, I’d give it five stars.”  
  
  
“Ogami and I found a security gate leading to the second floor, but we couldn’t budge it,” Asahina volunteers, and Ogami nods in agreement.  “It is quite well sealed.  It would appear we are confined to the first floor for the time being.”  
  
  
Kuwata leans his chair back onto its hind legs.  “Fugisaki and I checked out the kitchen.  There’s a shit ton of food in there.”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Fugisaki pipes up in an eager manner that seems quite her.  “They restock the fridge every day depending on how much we’ve eaten the day before.  We could probably stay here forever if we had to.”  Her voice begins to quiver on the word ‘forever’, and she falls silent again.  Kuwata awkwardly pats her on the shoulder and shoots a death glare at Fukawa, who is already pointing at the quietly crying girl.  
  
  
“How would you even know that?  Is there a sign posted or something?”  Owada demands, leaning forward with a glare.  “Or are you two working with the bear?”  
  
  
Fugisaki looks ready to cry, but Kuwata merely rolls his eyes.  “Nahh - but the bear showed up to tell us.  One sec we’re checking out the fridge, the next he pops up in the oranges to tell us about how great they taste with vodka.  He’s fucking weird.  You never know when he’s gonna show up, apparently; he’s just there.”    
  
  
Owada doesn’t seem convinced, but Togami nods his head in agreement.  “Indeed.  He appeared to speak to me as well.  He gave me some…useful information as I was investigating the men’s toilets.”  Everyone turned to stare at him, and he rolled his eyes and turned away in disgust.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  I’m not going to share any information with you until I have verified it myself.  I am not a gossip.  I merely wished to inform you that, while you are traipsing about playing ‘school living club’, I am going to be investigating a lead that might help us get out of this god-forsaken school once and for all.”  With that, he stands and walks out of the room.    
  
  
“Maybe I can get the information out of him!”  Fukawa knocks her chair over in her hurry to rise and scurries after him.  The others ignore her and continue to discuss their options far into the night - even after Monokuma makes the curfew announcement at 10pm.    
  
  


 

\---------------

  
  
  
Ishimaru can’t sleep.  He tosses and turns on his soft bed.  It is quite comfortable, he’ll admit to that, but that’s not what is keeping him awake.  He just can’t stop thinking about the situation he’s in and how it differs from what he’d imagined.  He had always thought that by now, he would have had a long and inspiring day at the most prestigious academy in the whole of Japan - instead, he’s restlessly writhing on what is essentially his prison cot.  This room, as luxurious as it is, is naught more than a cell that he is allowed to sleep in.  He refuses to think about the hammer he found in his dresser drawer, obviously a gift from Monokuma to aid him in his ‘murderous playtime adventures’.  He doesn’t care how dire the situation gets; he will never use it.  
  
  
He doesn’t realize that he eventually falls asleep, his dreams spent running so slowly through the halls of this school as the madly laughing faces of his classmates chase him with their own weapons.  Even the timid Fugisaki is grinning with an evilly insane expression as she stabs him over and over again with a screwdriver.  Fukawa slits his arms slowly with a pair of old hedge clippers, one line at a time.  Togami is laughing madly as he beats his head in with a thick book…  
  
  
“Ding, dong, ding, dong!  Wakey-wakey, my hapless little students!  I have an announcement for you on this beautiful, beautiful morning - a corpse announcement!  Yes, that’s right - while the rest of you have been dreaming sweet little dreams, one of you has been making their own dreams come true by getting their murder on!  Before I let you look at the desecrated corpse of your former classmate, however, I have a few more announcements to make.  Everybody, meet me in the gym in exactly 12 minutes for a brief synopsis of the rules in this crazy madhouse!  See you there!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Monokuma is HARD - but writing Ishimaru is even harder <_<
> 
> I've been having a very difficult few weeks, and it's been making it hard for me to write. Please leave either a kudos or a comment - they help inspire me to keep writing. 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! Hit me up with any headcanons or theories you have. If you want to remain anonymous, send your ideas to boop-teh-snoot.tumblr.com. Remember, I respond to everything, so don't be afraid I won't notice it. I notice EVERYTHING


	5. Chapter 5

Almost everyone else beats him to the gym.  By the time he arrives, the groups have split, and he has yet to find a place for himself.  Fukawa, ordinarily a loner (and by that he means huddling in the corner ogling Togami), is for some reason sobbing her heart out and has oddly joined Celesita, who looks rather uncomfortable as she awkwardly pats the girl on the shoulder.  Quelling his instinctive controlling need to find out what's going on, he instead stands beside the biker, who is leaning against the bleachers and cleaning his teeth with his fingernails.  "What's going on?  Why is Fukawa sobbing?"  
  
Owada shrugs.  "No clue, but I'll bet it has something to do with the murder announcement.  Togami hasn't shown up yet, so she probably thinks he's the dead one or something."  He nibbles on a cuticle, then pulls his hand away and folded his arms over his chest.  "Seriously, though.  Is this real?  Is someone dead?"  
  
Ishimaru scans the crowd, counting twelve others.  "We're missing Togami and Kirigiri, so we won't find out until they get here.  But if Monokuma made the announcement...I guess someone thought it was for real."  
  
"What - of course it's real!  I am hurt, Ishimaru."  Owada lets out a yell of shock and recoils violently; Ishimaru reaches up to touch the sudden weight on his shoulder and shrieks as well as his fingers touch soft fur.  Monokuma throws his surprisingly strong little arms around the hall monitor's face in a tight bear hug and buries his face in his hair.  "Oooh, someone showered.  So soft....ahhhh.  And is that cucumber I smell?  Hall monitor keeping fresh!  Lead by example, I suppose."  
  
He hops off Ishimaru's shoulders and putters to the stage, where he struggles to climb to the three-foot platform. The students reluctantly cluster around, still remaining firmly locked in their own little groups.  Ishimaru pushes his way to the front, ignoring that Owada stays toward the rear, and takes his place directly in front of the podium.  After a moment, he awkwardly gives the struggling bear a shove up onto the stage.  This is just going to take way too long if he doesn't.   
  
"Thank you, Ishimaru!  At least one of you spoiled little ingrates knows how to show a little respect around here."  Monokuma dusts himself off.  He hops onto the podium and grabs his token fish, slapping it toward them like a pointer stick.  "Good morning, my bright-eyed little minions!  And even though it's an absolutely gorgeous morning - I've been outside and the sun is just so warm on my soft, soft fur - "  He pauses hopefully for a moment, but continues almost sadly when nobody steps forward to give him a snuggle.  " - despite the fact that this morning is one of the most beautiful that I've ever seen in my short little life, you guys just look so depressed!  What gives?"  
  
"What gives?"  Fukawa jerks away from Celestia long enough to point an accusing finger at the bear.  "You killed my dear, sweet Togami, that's what gives!"  The room echoes with gasps and cries of shock; Fukawa almost seems to relish in this sudden attention and continues her tirade without hesitation.  "Yes, he killed Togami!  I went to his room this morning to bring him a mocha latte for breakfast so he didn't have to eat with you plebians, and he was just lying on his floor!  Dead!  I tried to wake him up, but - "  She bursts into tears again, and Celesta (who, again, does not seem very keen on getting within arm's reach of those flying snot bubbles) quietly edges away, leaving poor Fugisaki to step in and begin to comfort the sobbing girl.  
  
Ishimaru can't speak, can barely think.  Togami - dead?  It doesn't make sense.  They've been here for a whole day - a single day - and someone has already died.  None of this made sense.  Didn't they make a pact not to kill each other?  Didn't they agree to stay alive together, as friends?  Plus - didn't the bear say that he would be involved, not in the killing, but in the oversight and supervision of the students, as a sort of cosmic babysitter?  Why would he kill Togami?  
  
Monokuma looks rather perturbed at the accusation.  "Me?  Kill Togami?  Don't be ridiculous.  You guys are supposed to do the killing, not me!  Rules are rules."  He giggles suddenly.  "You guys should have seen me when people ignored the 'do not feed the bears' sign.  Best day ever."  
  
"Well, if you didn't kill him, then who did?" Fukawa shrieked.  "Nobody here could possibly do it!  Togami was too smart, too brave, too - too - "  
  
"Too alive to be killed stone dead?"  Monokuma chuckled.  "Seems to me like you're too stubborn to hear the truth, so I'm gonna talk to all the grown-ups here.  You all seem a little shell-shocked, so I'm guessing you understand the gravity of the situation.  Look, Yamada's even sweating enough to fill our swimming pool, I think he gets it.  One of you - one of you fourteen students - have killed Byakuya Togami in cold blood while the rest of you slept in your comfortable dorm rooms.  Oh no!  What are we gonna do about it?"  He clapped his furry little paws together, the salmon having seemingly vanished once again.  "Well, my harebrained little friends, we're about to enter my favorite parts of this little killing game of mine:  investigation, then trial!"  He flung his arms back as a fanfare blares from the speakers, but nobody cheers.  Nobody claps.  Nobody reacts in any way other than to stare at him as though he's completely lost his mind.  "Well, you guys are no fun."  
  
"Forgive me if I'm wrong," Celestia interrupts, raising her dainty hand.  "But are you saying that we are about to become detectives, as if we were in some sort of mystery game?  Besides, did you not say yourself that whoever gets away with murder will graduate - so should not the guilty party have already left school grounds by this point?"  
  
"Ding-ding-ding, give the girl a star!  Nobody said you weren't the brightest comet  crashing to the planet.  Glad to see you're paying attention, at least."  Monokuma brightens and punches his little paw.  "All right, fellas and ladies, it's simple.  You look for clues.  You tear apart Togami's room and his body.  You find any and all evidence that points you in the direction of his murderer.  And, when I get bored and decide your time is up, you head on down to my little courtroom I've (finangled) and point your collective fingers at the blackened murderer in the grandest unmasking of Hope's Peak history!"  He darkens suddenly, and the light in the room dims as well, his face glowing like a small furry spotlight.  "But be warned, my little junior detectives.  If you decide the guilt of an innocent party - someone who didn't commit the murder of Byakuya Togami - the ACTUAL murderer will get to graduate and leave Hope's Peak Academy forever!  ...while the rest of you get dragged off to your respective punishments, so point the fingers at your own perils!"  
  
"Wh-what do these 'punishments' consist of?" Yamada stammers quietly, trembling like a dry leaf before a powerful tornado.  
  
"I do believe another word for these punishments would be...oh, what's the word again?  Oh yeah!  Executions."  
  
Yamada collapses in a dead faint at Celestia's feet.  She looks even more displeased and takes a careful step back to avoid stepping in the pools of his cold sweat before her toes.  She looks absolutely disgusted for a moment but is able to quietly regain her dignified expression.  
  
"You seem shocked by this!  Why?  What has the whole point of this entire game been about?"  Monokuma flails his furry little arms.  "It's always been about you guys dying, one at a time, until there's only one or two left to battle it out, Fortnite-style!"  He calms down quickly, dropping his arms to his sides.  "Now then.  Off you go, my little darlings!  Investigation, then trial!"  
  
And with those words, he vanishes.  
  
"I cannot believe how disrespectful that bear is being!"  Ishimaru slams his fist against the stage, its bang echoing through the silent gym.  "To have us here for this...bizarre pep rally when we should be mourning the loss of one of our own - "  
  
"Oh, like you get to talk!"  Fukawa wrenches away from Fugisaki's gentle ministrations and storms out the double doors.  The small girl hesitates then scurries after, throwing an apologetic look over her shoulder at Ishimaru.  
  
Owada shrugs.  "What're you gonna do about it?  Not like we can really do anything about it now.  Come on.  Let's go check out the crime scene.  I don't exactly feel like dying today, bruh."  
  
========  
  
The first stop, obviously, is Togami's room.  Ishimaru and Owada are far from the first ones there; Naegi and Maizono have already arrived, and Kirigiri has clearly been there for quite some time.  She is sitting on the bed and reading a leather-bound book.  She raises her head to watch them push the door open, then lowers her eyes back to the book.  "I've already completed my own investigation of this room, sans this book. Suffice it to say, I'm interested to see how many of you come to the same conclusion as I have."  She snaps the book shut and tucks it into the inside pocket of her jacket.  "I have a few more leads to follow up on, then I'll meet you all in the cafeteria.  I rather suspect that's where your investigation will lead you too."  
  
Ishimaru rolls his eyes as Owada's eyes follow Kirigiri's backside all the way out the door.   "Could you focus?  We have to figure out who killed Togami, and the others aren't going to let us look around forever."  He pulls out his little tablet, opening the Monokuma file and comparing it to the corpse.    
Victim is one Byakuya Togami.  
  
CAUSE OF DEATH  
The victim's body was   
discovered in his own   
dormitory on the First Floor.  
  
Estimated time of death is   
2:00 AM.  
  
The victim suffered one severe  
 blow to the head and was   
strangled by a cord at least four  
 feet in length, resulting in death.    
He was also stabbed repeatedly   
with a pencil, although these   
injuries did not result in death.  
  
Aside from that, the body has no   
other external injuries, and no   
chemicals such as poison were   
detected.  
  
Attached to it is a picture of the corpse exactly the way it's lying on the floor. Maizono gasps as Ishimaru drops to one knee beside the corpse.  "You're going to touch him - I mean, it - I mean - why are you touching his body?"  
  
"Part of investigation, I think.  That's how you do it in books."  He grabs a pencil from the floor and reaches forward, intending to use it to move his hair, then recoils when he sees the blood on it.  "I - have found the pencil used to stab him."  
  
"The wounds are not deep - a milimeter at most."  Naegi flicks through his own Monokuma file.  "Looks like they're mostly in his hands and feet - defensive wounds, maybe?  He was trying to defend himself, and the murdered stabbed him with a pencil until he got the upper hand?"  
  
Ishimaru pulls out his own pencil and uses it to move Togami's eerily luscious blonde hair aside.  It is sticky from the blood, but it still flows to his guidance.  "The file's right.  He got hit by something back here.  It's pretty bad.  I think this is what killed him."  
  
"Check his neck too, bro."  Owada points from across the room, where he's inspecting  a smashed chair that doesn't look like it belongs in the dormitory.  "The file said strangluation.  Should be bruises and burns and shit.  That should give us an idea on what was used to choke him out."  He picks up a broken chair leg and tosses it over.  "Also check this on the back of his head, see if this is what he got konked with."  
  
Ishimaru obeys with a grimace, gingerly holding the leg slightly above the head wound.  "Doesn't look like it.  The wound is bigger than the head.  It does match a couple of bruises on his face, though."  He tosses the leg back.  "There's no blood on this leg, Owada.  Why would you think - ?"  
  
"Sometimes the crack doesn't bleed right when you hit it."  Owada catches the leg and sets it on the floor, then strolls over.  "Let me see his neck."  Using a corner of the bedsheet, he moves Togami's head around slowly.  "Yup, he got the shit strangled out of him.  Damn, someone hated him."  He points absently at a shattered lamp with his free hand.  "Hey, popstar.  Grab me that lamp, will ya?"  
  
"B-But it has blood on it!"  
  
"So it was probably used to conk him.  I need the cord, anyway, so you don't even have to touch the blood.  Convenient, right?"  She reluctantly obeys, and he presses the frayed and stretched cable to his throat. "Yup, he was definitely fucked with this.  Jeez.  Takes a lot of dedication to strangle someone with a lamp cord.  Someone really wanted him dead."  He stands and dusts his hands off.  "All right, I think we've got everything from this room.  Let's meet up with Kirigiri and see what we can figure out in the cafeteria."  
  
Ishimaru, despite his innate need to lead, is impressed.  Clearly Owada has done this kind of thing before - and why wouldn't he?  He was - he is - in a biker gang that's always on edge with the law, and he's been in juvie.  It stands to reason that he's had to investigate the deaths of his fellow members, right?  Of course.  Perhaps being a delinquent can have its benefits in...certain, select situations.  He follows the taller man out of the room, with Naegi and Maizono at his tail.  
  
  
=========  
  
  
"Tell me about the crime scene."  Kirigiri is seated at a random spot at the communal table, a seat that Ishimaru recognizes as Enoshima's spot.  Oh, she's going to get an earful if the model shows up...  
  
Owada answers immediately.  "He got attacked.  When he fought back, he got stabbed with a pencil.  The murderer hit him with the lamp to knock him out, then choked him to death with the lamp's power cable.  Enough said."  He plops down at the table and reaches for a muffin.  The look of enjoyment on his face both concerns Ishimaru and makes him envious.  He hasn't eaten yet today, and it's already nearly lunchtime.  He vows to wait until the actual meal is prepared, but he so desperately wants that soft blueberry muffin...  
  
"An interesting take."  Kirigiri snaps the notebook shut again (clearly it's becoming a signature move for her) and shoves it back into her pocket. "It quite matches the results of mine, actually.  We've solved for the 'how' - but before the trial begins, we need to figure out the 'why' and the 'who'."  
  
"Why bother with the why?  All we really need is the 'who'," Ishimaru protests, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back slightly in his chair.  "Does the motive really matter if we can find the perpetrator?"  
  
"In some instances, the motive can lead to the murderer."  Kirigiri pulls a small sheet of notepad paper out of her pocket and holds it up. "I found this in his room as well.  It seems to be a summons from a certain Yamada asking our victim to meet him in the cafeteria for a private meeting.  We need to find out if Togami actually showed up - if he did, then Yamada is quite possibly the last person to see Togami alive."  
  
"MmmmMMMMM, I have a little buzzing in my ears!  Is someone talking about little old me?  I'm flattered!"  Speak of the devil - in walks Yamada from the kitchen, crunching on a bright red apple; the juices drain down his face to stain his shirt, but he doesn't seem to care as he devours it, core and all.    
  
"We were, actually - and we were about to come looking for you.  We have a few questions for you regarding the murder."  
  
Yamada sprays the apple juices across Ishimaru's face; Ishimaru is not amused.  "Wha - why would you want to ask me any questions?  Surely you don't think I was involved!"  He seems quite nervous; sweat is already dripping so freely that it's almost indistinguishable from the apple juices, and his face has turned quite pale.  Ishimaru frowns; that seems suspicious.  Though, to be fair, he would also be nervous if he were being questioned about a murder he wasn't involved with.  Any wrong answers mean his death, and death is not a prospect most people look forward to.  
  
"We found a note in Togami's room asking him to meet you here last night at 11 PM.  Did he arrive?"  That's Kirigiri for you, always business, all the time.  
  
"No - no, he didn't.  I gave up waiting for him at 1 :30 and started to go back to my room, but I ran into him on the way.  He was coming from the incinerator room, and he looked quite tired, surprisingly.  I asked why he did not meet me and he mocked me, stating that 'only a fool' would go out of his way to meet a 'bumbling oaf' such as myself.  His words cut me, m'lady!  They cut me on a spiritual level, where the wounds do not heal as freely!"  
  
Kirigiri ignored his theatrics.  "Why did you want to meet him to begin with?"  
  
Yamada seems to be relaxing now; though his shirt is already thoroughly drenched in sweat, his face is beginning to dry.  "Why, I was going to ask if he'd talk to Fukawa for me.  She spent most of yesterday harassing me to make art of her and Togami.  I told her multiple times that my art is reserved for my fans and for Princess Piggles, but she simply would not listen.  She was quite adamant, even going so far as to threaten my own demise if I did not cooperate!"  He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead. "Naturally, I was hoping that perhaps the love of her life, Byakuya Togami, would be able to talk her out of such nonsense.  When I asked him if he would in the hallway, he said he had no time for such senseless drivel and stormed away."  He sighed dramatically.  "Oh well.  I've lived a good life."  
  
"Fukawa will not kill you over fanart!"  Ishimaru slams his fist against the table, relieved to finally be part of the conversation.  "I will have a word with her myself after the class trial!  She will be made to see reason!"  
  
"Bing-bong-bong-bing!  I'm bored now, guys!  Investigation time is now officially over.  Everyone head to the large red door by the cafeteria - it's time for the trial to begin!  You have five minutes!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so my depression is punching me in the face and not letting me find joy in writing right now, so my next update might be a tad bit late
> 
> Apologies in advance if it is. I'm trying to write but my brain's just like "bleurgh" right now. >_>


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so late! My computer ate this chapter twice.

The courtroom is, to Ishimaru's surprise, not trashy at all.  Quite to the contrary, it is just as classy as any other courtroom he's seen in anime (although in this particular context, that might make it just as trashy).  It is laid in red and gold, over a checkerboard floor.  Sixteen podiums (wait...sixteen?  Odd.) stand in a circle, with photographs of each student's face on a small stick behind them, perhaps to indicate where each student is meant to stand.  Even Togami's face is there, though it is crudely crossed out with a crimson X.  Ishimaru awkwardly takes his place between a livid Junko Enoshima and a quietly weeping Maizono.  This is bad.  He can't handle violent people (and Junko strikes him as the type to punch first, ask questions later), and he certainly doesn't know what to do if Maizono starts crying in earnest.  His younger sister hasn't cried in front of him since she was a baby, and he greatly doubts that turning Maizono over his knee and smacking her back until she burps is the right way to handle that situation.  
  
"Welcome to the trial portion of this investigation!"  Monokuma bounces on this throne behind the circle.  "This is where you guys - "  
  
"I think we understand the concept."  Kirigiri folds her arms over her chest and blatantly ignores the bear's pout.  "Though finding where to begin can be tricky."  
  
"I know prrrrrecisely where to begin!"  Yamada spins to his right and jabs an accusing finger into Fukawa's glasses.   "I believe Byakuya Togami's murderer is none other than his jilted lover, Toko Fukawa!"  
  
She recoils from his hand and takes off her glasses to viciously clean them on her skirt.  "I did not kill Togami!  I had no reason to!"  She begins to sniffle, a tear falling from her eyelashes to land on her cheek.  "Oh, poor sweet Togami..."    
  
"He never gave you more than a fraction of his attention, and that attention was always rather negative!  He treated you more like a flea-ridden mongrel than a human being - and that drove you wild.  You had to be rid of him.  He was a mouse, not a man, and you craved a real man!"  Yamada strokes the buttons of his shirt as if they were suspenders.  "Well, if you survive this trial, I'll be more than happy to take his place at your side, my beloved fanfiction writer."  
  
"Ha!  In your dreams, roly-poly."  Fukawa pointedly turns away from him to face Kirigiri.  "I did not kill Master Togami, no matter how many times he told me I reeked."  Her face flushed a dark pink, and a trickle of blood began to drizzle down to her lip.  "He never held anything back, not ever - he was always so open and masterful.  How could I kill a man like that?  Oh, he was perfect - and once I had fixed all of my flaws, he was going to take me into his open arms and squeeze me like a puppy.  And now he's gone!"  This time, she doesn't stop with a simple artistic teardrop; she bursts into sobs complete with snot bubbles and hiccups.  
  
"Togami was found in his dormitory," Kirigiri interrupts, ignoring the sobbing Fukawa.  "The lock on his door was tampered with - it looks like someone attempted to pick it, then when they couldn't, they smashed it with a chair leg."  
  
"That sounds an awful lot like what someone would do if they got desperate."  Leon folded his arms and shrugged.  "I mean, if Togami told a certain someone to go away and locked her out of his room, a certain someone might try to, you know, break in to be with her one true love."  
  
"So?" Fukawa spits, jabbing a finger at Leon.  "All it proves is that the killer broke the lock to get in at his prey!"  
  
Leon pinches his brow in frustration.  "Dude, I was implying that it was YOU."  
  
"But it wasn't me!  Why would I kill dear, sweet Togami?  After graduation, he and I were going to run away together, back to my home, where we will live happily ever after, like Gomez and Morticia Addams.  The show, not the movies.  Those sucked."  
  
"That sounds quite like a fanfiction I read a few weeks before all this took place."  Celestia frowns disapprovingly at Fukawa.  "As I recall, the author was named 'Toko_&_Byakuya_4ever'.  Does that sound familiar, Toko darling?"  
  
Fukawa's face is as red as the curtains on the wall behind her.  "I don't know what you're talking about, you shameless hussy!"  
  
"PLEASE!"  Kirigiri's voice rings above the chaos.  Celestia, eyes blazing with fury, and Fukawa (and everyone else, for that matter) turn to face her.  She is gripping the podium tightly with both gloved hands.  "We have to focus on the trial, not shout accusations and call names.  I think we should stop fighting right here and examine the evidence."  
  
"Aw, and it was just starting to get interesting."  
  
Kirigiri, ignoring the pouting Monokuma, pulls a notebook out of her jacket.  "I took notes on the evidence that Owada, Ishimaru, and I have compiled.  I say we review it."  She flips it open to the middle of the book and gestures at Owada.  "Would you be so good as to tell everyone what we've learned, based on the crime scene?"  
  
Owada describes the room in incredible detail,  By the end of his more-than-adequate description, Fukawa was pale and trembling, and Yamada rather looked like he was going to vomit all across the room.  Kirigiri watches them very carefully with a raised eyebrow, then glances at Owada beside her.  He returns the glance without a flicker of emotion and shrugs.  "Yeah, that's all I've got.  Any thoughts?"  
  
Asahina raises her hand.  "So, lemme get this straight.  Someone broke into Togami's room, beat him up, stabbed him with a pencil, then strangled him with the lamp cord?  That sounds kind of overkill to me."  
  
"Way to imply you're not the killer there."  Monokuma's words slice through the dialogue like a hot knife through butter, but everyone ignores him.    
  
"We think the pencil stabbing was the result of Togami fighting back.  His wrists and hands are stabbed and bruised with defensive wounds," Naegi ventures.  "We think the killer got desperate when Togami defended himself and grabbed the closest thing to beat him down with."  
  
"That's my dear Togami, never letting anyone walk all over him."  
  
Fugisaki is trembling violently, but she slowly raises her hand as well.  "You guys think he was strangled by the lamp cord?"  
  
"It's a toss up between the lamp cord and the wound on the back of his head.  Even the Monokuma file didn't answer that for us."  
  
"But isn't the lamp cord too short to wrap around his neck?  How could it be the murder weapon?  It's only half a meter long."  
  
Kirigiri shakes her head.  "It doesn't have to stretch all the way across his neck.  As long as the front half is compressed and blood flow to the brain is cut off, Togami could be killed with that lamp cord."  
  
Something isn't right.  
  
Ishimaru drums his fingers on his podium.  "But...there were bruises and scrapes that signified strangulation on the back of his neck as well.  If the cable was too short to reach all the way around, then how did those come to be?"  
  
"Maybe the killer wrapped it around the back when he got the chance, then twisted around to choke off his throat afterward?"  
  
Kirigiri slowly shakes her head.  "No...Ishimaru is right.  There must have been a rope or a longer cable that caused the strangulation.  We didn't find anything at the scene, but that's easy enough to explain.  Rope can easily be put into one's pocket without anyone suspecting it is even there."  
  
"Let us focus more on the damage to the back of his head."  Ogami leans forward slightly.  "Owada, describe that again for me."  
  
"Please, don't."  Fugishaki claps her hands over her ears.  "I can't stomach that kind of talk.  If you must, let me cover my ears so I don't have to hear it again."  
  
"The same goes for me."  Yamada puts his fingers into his ears.  "I shan't listen to such gruesome details a second time around."  
  
"Pussies," mutters Fukawa, although she too looks rather uncomfortable.  
  
"The wound on the back of his head was pretty bad.  His head was split open, and his skull was pretty messed up.  There wasn't a lot of blood, but there really isn't in those types of injuries so that's not a huge deal.  We think it was caused by either the lamp or the broken chair leg.  Either way, it may or may not have been the killing blow."  He shrugs again.  "Wish I could've taken some pictures so other people could look at it and tell me what they think.  Could've made more sense outta this bull crap."  
  
"Unfortunately, none of us own a camera."  Kirigiri flips through her notebook until she finds the page she wants.  "I believe Ishimaru discovered that the gash on the back of his head did not match the broken chair leg but DID match the bruises on the front of his face and arms.  He believes the lamp is responsible for the wound on the back of his head."  
  
"Would not the lamp have shattered?" Ogami questions.  "That would have made a lot of noise.  Indeed, both of his neighbors should have heard the scuffle going on and come to help."  She, like half the class, pulls out her tablet and opens the map.  "His neighbors are Mondo Owada and Junko Enoshima.  Did either of you hear anything leading up to 2 AM?"  
  
Mondo clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.  "I...uh...I'm a really heavy sleeper,  I don't even hear the morning wake up announcements."    
  
At least he has the decency to look embarrassed.  Junko folds her arms over her ample chest and tosses her hair back.  "What-EVER.  I took a walk to the kitchen because I got hungry for some granola."  
  
"What time did you take this walk?"  
  
"It was...like...1:45, I think.  Right before the whole thing started, apparently."  Junko juts out her chin and glares daggers at Kirigiri.  "I'm sorry, is it a crime to get hungry now?  I may be a model, but I'm still a human BEE-ING.  I get hungry too."    
  
"Nobody is accusing you of anything, Enoshima."  Kirigiri jots a note in her notebook and continues the debate as if Junko hadn't spoken.  "Now then.  I have a few more questions about what happened.  Ishimaru, you were the one to investigate both the lamp and the chair as possible weapons for the open wound on the back of his head.  Was there anything else that could have possibly been used?"  
  
Ishimaru glances at Mondo, who shakes his head.  "Not that Mondo and I found, no.  We think the lamp was the culprit."    
  
"But the lamp was made of glass, and it seems to be unbroken."  Kirigiri shakes her head.  "That wound requires a very hard blow.  There's not even a crack in that lamp."  
  
Fugisaki slowly raises her hand.  "What if it was wrapped in something?  Would that help keep the glass intact?"  
  
"You'd have to hit much harder to do damage, but yes.  It would cushion the blow and keep the lamp's glass from breaking."  Kirigiri frowns.  "It sounds like you have an idea, Chihiro.  Would you care to share it?"  
  
"It's just..."  Fugisaki is bright red, clearly wishing she hadn't spoken up.  "I was looking around with Asahina and Ogami, and we found a pillow in the incinerator.  It was stuck and only half burned, but there was a lot of blood on what was left.  Maybe that's what the lamp was wrapped up in?"  
  
"It could be."  Kirigiri is still frowning.  "There's something I'm hung up on.  There is no reason for that lamp cord to be as worn and frayed as it is.  It looks like someone just... yanked on it as hard as possible.  That's not consistent with attempted strangulation.  Why is that lamp cord so beat up?"  The group pondered for several seconds, but nobody could come up with any ideas.  "Then I have a question for Enoshima."  Junko groaned in blatantly obvious annoyance and rolled her head back.  "When you were up, did you see anybody?  Or were you alone in breaking curfew?"  
  
"I mean, it wasn't technically breaking curfew - "  
  
"I wasn't accusing you.  Just answer the question, please."  
  
"Fiiiiiine.  I saw Yamada on my way back to my room.  He was all sweaty and gross, and he had blood on his shirt.  He made some pervy comment about my boobs, and I almost socked him, but he already had a nosebleed.  I asked him what was up, and he said he's gotten a nosebleed while he was working out, so he was going to the nurse's office to shove a tampon in it or something."  She rolled her head towards Yamada, who was beginning to pale considerably.  "I really don't see how a tampon would help, but whatever."  
  
"It soaks up the blood, so if you stick it up your nose - "  
  
"I said 'whatever'.  That means this conversation is over."  
  
"On the contrary.  I believe it has only begun."  Kirigiri points to Yamada, who recoils violently.  "Yamada, why don't you tell us what happened, in your own words?"  
  
"I - I was drawing a fanzine - "  
  
"I thought you told Enoshima that you were exercising?"  
  
"I was - I mean, I finished the fanzine and started doing my nightly exercises when I bumped my nose on the edge of the chair and it started bleeding so I went out to go to the infirmary to take care of it.  I ran into Junko who started accusing me of stalking her - "  
  
"I SO did not say that!"    
  
"Pardon me."  Celestia primly raised her hand.   "I also saw Yamada.  It was about 1:30 AM.  He was walking down the hallway with a piece of paper clenched in his fist.  I, myself, had just returned from the kitchen as Enoshima did.  He told me that someone had sent him a note asking him to come to their room, and would I be so kind as to not tell anyone.  It was quite odd, really."  
  
"So, between 1:30 and 2:15, your actions are unaccounted for, yet two students saw you walking in the hallways after curfew.  I think we'd better get a better understanding of the time frame.  You claimed to have received a note?"  
  
"F-From Togami.   He asked me to come to his room to help him with his lamp.  It was giving him trouble.  I helped him fix it, then went back to my room to draw my fanzine."  
  
"And approximately how long does it take you to draw a fanzine?"  
  
"A simple one?"  
  
"One of a similar caliber to the one you were drawing last night."  
  
"Um...usually about two to three hours, but I was in rare form last night, so I finished it in forty-five minutes."  
  
"And how long were you in Togami's room?"  
  
"About fifteen minutes."  
  
Kirigiri's lips twitch.  "And how long did you exercise?"  
  
"About another fifteen minutes."  
  
Ishimaru shifts uncomfortably.  This is starting to sound awfully conflicting.  In the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispers that Yamada is the murderer - but he can't be, he just can't be.  It has to be someone else.  Why would Yamada, the perverted and loud yet mild-mannered fanzine artist, kill Togami?  It makes no sense at all - and yet, somehow, Kirigiri's questions are forcing it to make sense.  He decides to keep his mouth shut for now and see where this goes.  
  
"I can see in your eyes, Ishimaru, that you are beginning to understand where these questions are leading."  Kirigiri offers him a rare tight-lipped smile, then turns back to Yamada.  "So fifteen, then forty-five, then another fifteen?  That gives you a window of an hour and fifteen minutes - when the time window Celestia, Junko, and you yourself have given us is only forty-five.  Your account adds an entire half-hour to this scenario.  I rather wonder if you have something to hide, Yamada."  She doesn't give him a chance to respond as she changes the subject quite rapidly.  "Tell me about that paper you were holding in your hand when Celestia met you.  Was it one of your drawings?"  
  
"It was a note from Togami, asking me to come to his room to help with his lamp."  He fishes around in his pocket, then pulls out a note and hands it to Fukawa beside him.  "Can you guys pass this around, please?"  
  
"Oh, no need... in fact - " Kirigiri pulls the note she found from her own pocket, folds it into a little paper airplane, then sends it flying to Fukawa.  "Fukawa, would you please read both notes and compare the handwriting?  The one I sent you is supposed to be from Yamada.  I'm sure you recognize Togami's handwriting?"  
  
"Togami's handwriting is the finest on the planet!  And neither one of these notes is from him!"  She crumples the notes in anger and throws it in Yamada's face.  "How dare you write a fake note from my dear sweet Togami?!"  
  
"I - I didn't!"  Yamada scrambles to remove the offending papers from his glasses.  "That note was taped to my door last night!  Someone knocked and when I answered the door, nobody was there - but there was a note.  So I read it and went to help Togami with his lamp!"  
  
"So your theory is that someone forged both notes - perhaps to get you and Togami out of your rooms."  Kirigiri raises a gloved hand to her chin as she ponders this.  "Ordinarily, I would accept this explanation and move on - but since Togami was the victim, and he was in his own room, I have severe doubts that your story is correct."  
  
"I have a question too."  Leon leans forward to rest his elbows on his podium.  "Hey, Yamada - why would Togami ask YOU to come to his room?  I mean, you're not exactly Bob the Builder here.  Plus, he hates you.  Kinda doesn't make any sense."  
  
"Maybe because he trusts me."  Yamada wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead.  "The note was for me and it was signed by Togami.  That's all I know."  
  
"Liar!"  Fukawa snapped her arms over her chest and turns away.  "We should vote right now.  Yamada is the killer."  
  
"We haven't looked at a final piece of evidence."  Kirigiri pulls out a small notebook, not unlike the one she pulled out earlier - though this one has a hole piercing through it and is covered in a splatter of blood.  "I found this in Togami's chest pocket.  Unfortunately, it has a hole in it, so reading it was difficult.  The last used page in it reads thusly."  She lifts the notebook and clears her throat.    
  
"I have been invited by Yamada to the cafeteria to discuss things at 11 PM.  Naturally, I refuse to go.  It is far too dangerous for me to meet people alone at this time.  However, my lamp has been acting up.  Monokuma offered to put in a work order, but I believe it will be a simple enough remedy to have Yamada come to my room at 1:30 AM to fix it with my tool kit.  He will then be able to discuss what he wishes with me.  Ordinarily, this would not be an option, but I feel safe enough.  Fukawa is constantly monitoring my room (despite my many attempts to drive her away), so I do not fear that Yamada will attempt anything."    
  
As she closes the notebook, Yamada sputters, "Well, OBVIOUSLY, I didn't GO - "  
  
"That's not what you told Celestia.  You told her that you were on your way to an unnamed student's room and that she was not to tell anyone."  
  
"I lied!"  
  
"I rather find that there is more than enough evidence now that you did indeed go to Togami's room that night, at the time that the Monokuma file confirms was Togami's time of death.  Would you believe differently, were someone else's head on the chopping block?"  Kirigiri sets down the notebook and crosses her arms over her chest.  "Does anyone else have any questions?"  
  
"I'd like to know what's hanging out of Yamada's pocket."  Naegi points at Yamada's crotch.  Yamada's face turns bright red, and he shoves the unidentified object back into his pants pocket.    
  
"Naegi, could you be so kind as to grab what's in his pocket?  Ogami, could you join him to make sure Yamada doesn't injure himself trying to fight back?"  Kirigiri's lips are a thin tight line.  
  
"There's nothing - It's just my socks!  I swear it's just my socks!"  
  
"Then pull them out and show us, Yamada.  If you have nothing to hide, then it shouldn't be a problem."    
  
Naegi hesitantly reaches into Yamada's pocket and pulls out something white.  "What the..."  He opens his hand to inspect it, then shrieks and flings it into the center of the ring.  "Gahh!  Snake!"  
  
Kirigiri and Ogami lean forward simultaneously to inpsect the white snake flopping on the ground.  "It's not a snake.  That's a rope."  
  
"There is a considerable amount of blood on that rope."  Ogami steps into the ring, nearly knocking over her podium, and picks up the rope.  "Perhaps this was the rope used to strangle Togami."  
  
Naegi stares at Yamada with renewed horror.  "Yamada...how could you?"  
  
"Let us vote!  Let us vote!"  Fukawa began to chant steadily, pounding her fists against her podium.  
  
"Well, if that's what you really want."  Monokuma grins and raises his little gavel.  It's almost adorable.  
  
"Wait!" Kirigiri shouts, flinging her hand out.  "We can't vote yet - there's no guarantee - "  
  
"Toooooooo late!"  Monokuma cackles evilly.  "Voting time!  Everybody, pull out your Monotablets and select the face of the Blackened!" Silently ignoring Yamada and Kirigiri's shrieks of protest, everybody else opened their tablets and pressed a single face.  The room fills with echoes of the soft beeping.  Ishimaru reluctantly taps Yamada's face with a trembling finger.  Finally, after what seems an eternity, the room is silent - but not for long.  "You have all voted for Hifumi Yamada.  Let the record show that you are - "  He pauses for several long seconds.  
  
Ishimaru can't take it anymore.  "Tell us, damn it!  Don't keep us waiting!"  
  
"Impatient, aren't we?  Well, you've all been good little boys and girls - except for Yamada."  He crows with triumph.  "That's right!  Hifumi Yamada is guilty of the murder of Byakuya Togami!"  
  
"No!" Yamada screams.  His face is ashen, with large beads of sweat flowing so freely down that it looks like his forehead is raining.  "I didn't do it, I swear I didn't do it!"  
  
"The rules of my game state quite clearly that the Blackened, if found guilty, will be executed."  Monokuma wags his little paw at Yamada.  "And they guessed right!  Time for your execution!"  
  
"Wait."  Naegi leans forward, his face flushed with anguish.  "Yamada...why did you do it?  Why did you kill Togami?"  
  
Yamada is sobbing now.  "I didn't want to.  I didn't want to.  I just wanted to be his friend.  But he kept pushing me, and making fun of me, just like he does Fukawa.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I went to his room to help with his lamp and asked him why he snubbed me, and he said such horrible things that I...I lost it.  I grabbed his lamp and yanked it out of its plug and hit him with it.  I just wanted to beat him up a little, make him hurt for what he'd done, but he just kept talking and talking and talking..."  At this point, he is still trying to talk, but it's clear that they will not understand another word past his sniveling wails.  
  
Monokuma sighs loudly.  "That is the most boring motive I've ever heard.  Welp, I'm gonna go ahead and call it.  I'm bored, and we're all waiting for an execution.  Let's go!"  He hops off the throne and grabs Yamada's hair to drag him down a corridor that nobody had noticed before (perhaps because it was sealed behind a wall).  The wall closes, and a large white tarp flops over it.  A projector rises from Monokuma's seat and starts streaming, that they may all witness Yamada's downfall.  His body goes limp and remains perfectly still; even so, the airplanes continue to cut until his body begins to fall apart into paper-thin pieces.  Large robotic hands appear from the sides   
  
He stands, arms tied to opposing poles, on a small platform.  Monokuma is dressed as a princess; Ishimaru recognizes his outfit as something from Yamada's fanzines.  Doesn't he exclusively draw that one princess from an old, old anime?  Yes, that's definitely it.  In his fuzzy arms, he holds a large wicker basket filled with paper airplanes that all sport the same princess - Yamada's fanzines.  As they watch in horror, the paper airplanes begin to lift and fly at alarming speeds towards Yamada.  He recoils and screams in pain as they cut him, over and over, zooming in wide arcs to always return, to always cut him deeper and deeper.  Blood sprays everywhere but never once blocks the camera that's obviously sending this image to the petrified students.  Soon, Yamada goes and piece each slice together, then fold it over and over until the paper of Yamada's corpse have been transformed into the princess he loved so much.  
  
The screen goes dark, and all they can hear is Monokuma's demented cackles echoing around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might be taking a bit of a hiatus. I don't know yet. I'm just letting you guys know now in case I do.

**Author's Note:**

> So my boyfriend, when he's exhausted, is a fountain of ideas. We planned the premise in about twenty minutes, and this is going to be the start of something biiiig
> 
> Different characters live and die in this AU. Please don't sue me if your favorite character dies. I may or may not have planned their death with glee.


End file.
